


A Strange Contract

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Demons, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pining, Priests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Haywood, a Catholic priest performs exorcisms for those need them. Michael, a demon, has a bit of a crush. After a befuddling string of strange exorcisms Ryan starts to realize that the spike in possessions among his churchgoers might have less to do with a rise in demonic entities and more to do with one very powerful, very fixated demon</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Contract

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt, reposted here. The story does lead itself to other chapters, but for now it's a oneshot!

Having faith doesn’t make one stupid, as Ryan was living proof of. His job was more than baptisms, blessings, and prayer, and even after graduating from the ministry he was still teaching himself. At this very moment, he was learning a great deal about demon summoning rituals.

Usually that was a far cry from what priests were actually _meant_ to do, but he was at his wit’s end. There had been six demonic possessions in as many weeks in his small, back water Texas town that acted as a pocket for Catholics. 

When he was asked by one of the neighboring Baptist churches to take a look at one of their attendees, a 67 year old Mrs. Talbot who had black eyes and was walking on ceilings, Ryan had no choice but to put some of his lessons of the occult to the test. They had seemed to work; Mrs. Talbot had a fractured ankle but was otherwise unharmed. But then, in his very own church, there was a possession - easy to get rid of, also. But then another, and another, and another. His parishioners were afraid to come out on Sundays, but this last possession occurred in one of his attendee’s homes, and he had a sinking feeling that the reason behind it wasn’t an anomaly of demon activity. 

So here he was, in the living room of his house - he didn’t want to ruin the church should anything go wrong - drawing a pentagram on the floor, with archaic runes around it. The book he was following had been sent by his old professor at the ministry school; he was only a teacher in paganism, but his religious knowledge spanned far beyond that, and delved into demonology. His work done, Ryan stood back and read from the book slowly, his Latin clumsy. In the corner of his eye he saw the row of candles on the coffee table had blown out; he was in the demon’s presence now. “Show yourself!” He commanded, looking into the circle.

Ryan heard a soft noise, like someone with dry lips had opened their mouth. In front of him was something that looked like a man, a young one to be sure. “Is this how you present yourself?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice strong.

The demon glanced around the room; it had pale skin, and brown hair that formed as a mop of curls on the top of its head. He could see freckles on its cheeks, and shoulders. Its bare toes wiggled on the old wooden boards. 

“Will you not speak?”

“Hey, let a guy get over motion sickness, won’t you? It’s bad enough you’ve been kicking me out of hosts for over a month.” Ryan was taken aback by the casual tone, and human voice of the demon, but he was not to be deterred.

“You admit that you were possessing those people?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“But I exorcised you. How do you keep coming back?” The demon waved its hand dismissively and walked out of the circle, step never faltering. Immediately any semblance of safety was gone, and Ryan backed himself up against the wall, willing himself not to scream in panic.

“You’re not bad for a new guy. If I were a grunt you would’ve sent me packing on the first try.” The demon leered at Ryan. “And your little chalk circle would’ve kept me too. But I’m not a grunt. And the only way that,” The creature jutted its thumb over his shoulder to where the circle was, “Would’ve kept me inside was if you had killed a fellow holy man and drew everything in his blood. But I don’t blame you; old magic has too many loopholes, if you ask me.” 

“W-Who are you? Why are you here?” Ryan gasped, yanking the cross he wore off of its chain and shoving it in front of him, nearly touching the demon’s chest.

“I’m being too forward, aren’t I? Shit, that always happens.” The demon stopped moving forward and instead merely crossed his arms over his chest. “Call me Michael.”

“Like the archangel. That Michael,” Ryan asked, still overtly cautious.

“Hey, Michael was a name before that prick used it.”

“It literally means ‘of God’.”

 _Michael_ grinned impishly. “Aren’t we all children of God?” Ryan frowned. 

“What do you want? Are you here to drag me to Hell? Start an earthquake? Possess me?” 

“I can’t just drop by for a visit?”

Ryan gave Michael a wary expression. “Really? Is _this_ how you ‘drop by’? By convincing the entire county that there’s a demonic epidemic?” 

“I was just trying to get your attention. The traditional methods wouldn’t work.” 

Ryan, at a loss for words, merely stared at the demon some feet away from him, the cross in his hand slowly lowering.

“Oh, come on! You’re a priest! Code of celibacy? I couldn’t just pretend to be ‘new in town’ and ask you for drinks.” 

“I - you. Um, I don’t drink?”

“Dinner! A movie! Anything!” 

“Is this a new recruiting plan in Hell?” 

Michael, fed up, leaped forward and yanked Ryan by the front of his shirt. “I was just trying to get you to _like_ me! Or notice me! Something!” He belatedly let go of the priest’s clothes. “Demons can’t stay on this plane naturally unless they’re fucking something up. I was just blowing through town for fun when I saw you and…” He stopped when he realized Ryan was still looking at him with a dumbfounded expression. “I haven’t gotten with a human since The Eiffel Tower was being built, okay? And I’ve always had a soft spot for holy men. The forbidden fruit of the demonic world, you could say.” 

“Is that it?” Ryan said. “You just - you _like_ me?” Michael rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been to your church - everyone in that fucking building likes you. Most of them aren’t even Catholic! They just go because they like listening to you talk. Can’t say I blame them.” 

“Uh-huh,” Ryan said, doubtfully. 

“It’s true! You’re a magnificent creature - perfectly sculpted, the most amazing voice…” Michael was edging forward again, his hands drawn out like he was longing to touch. “The purest blue eyes…” Ryan blinked, and slowly slid along the wall, closer to the staircase leading up to the second floor of his home.

“Thanks?” He swallowed nervously. “If you like me so much, why don’t you just, uh, you know…”

“Force you? I’m _evil,_ Ryan, but that’s not my division. I’m more of the general mayhem, misery, corruption, and besides, sex slaves don’t get to go on dates.”

“And that’s what you want? A date?” Michael was sucking on the inside of his cheek, clearly looking Ryan up and down. “If I go out with you, will you stop possessing people?” 

Michael looked considering for a moment. Finally he said. “Two dates.”

“I… okay?”

“And a kiss.”

“Bu - Fine. Sure. Do you want to go now?” Ryan asked awkwardly, fighting his blush. “I can just, go grab my jacket.” He started to turn towards the stairs.

“No, no, we’re not just going to some steakhouse down the road. If I’m taking you out, we’re going somewhere you’ve never been.” 

Ryan looked over his shoulder. “So… button-up?” 

Michael sighed, but it seemed fond, and he snapped his fingers. Everything Ryan was wearing suddenly seemed… heavier. When he glanced down, he realized he was in a three piece suit; the tie was silk, the jacket felt like a wool blend, and it all sat perfectly on his frame. “Did you just magic some Armani on me?” he asked, realizing that Michael was in a similar state of dress. 

“Hugo Boss, actually.” He walked towards Ryan and put out a hand. “Where should we go? New York? France? I haven’t been to Italy since the last World War.”

Ryan frowned, but took Michael’s hand anyway. “What, were you Mussolini’s aid or something?” 

“Oh, no, I helped make sure he got his summary execution. Murder _is_ evil, you know, I just happened to be on a widely beneficial side that time.” Ryan dimly noticed that Michael had interlaced their fingers together. This was the most surreal hour he had ever experienced. 

“Okay…”

“Then Italy it is,” Michael said, smiling widely. Ryan had to admit that the demon was handsome, the suit definitely doing favors to his young body. And if the worst thing that happened was he had to put up with his company for two nights, it was probably one of the better deals with a devil anyone had ever made. 

“Do you want your kiss now, or after the two dates?” Ryan asked, as Michael took his other hand, presumably to transport them. 

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Michael murmured. “I’m hoping that by the end of the second date, you’ll want to have a breach of contract.” He gave a playful wink, and Ryan’s living room completely dissolved around them.


End file.
